The Right Price
by LanisFanFiction
Summary: It’s the annual PPTH Bachelor Auction Fundraiser. Guess who’s single this year, and guess whose best friend has submitted his name? Slash, ChaseWilson.


It was a crisp night in Princeton the night of the Annual Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital's Bachelor Auction Fundraiser. Saying that mouthful alone was enough to keep warm and not need a jacket, but James Wilson had other ideas.

Up on the roof on this evening that was cool enough to cause breath to condense, but not enough to stop people being outside, Wilson had his lover pressed up against the rough brick wall. Lips and tongue were busy assaulting the smooth skin at the throat, mutual hands down pants, and equal pants of breathy encouragements and demands were completely distracting the couple to the fact they should both be downstairs at the fundraiser, stat.

Wilson's watch beeped, indicating the time to him and he sprung back, licking his lips reluctantly. He checked the Rolex face anyway, hoping he was mistaken and growled in annoyance. "I have to get my arse down there. If I don't put in an appearance, Oncology will get zip of the proceeds. We need those extra beds."

He was met with a look that was a cross between a scowl, a pout and a cheeky smirk, then a hand cupping his groin with one last pointed squeeze. All entirely too wanton for Wilson to resist without taking a step away. "Just five more minutes?" his lover purred, taking a step _forward_ to resume their original stance.

Wilson laughed, his cheeks burning with arousal. "I'm going to need those five minutes in the bathroom to undo what you've done to me. Turning up down there with a hard-on is going to get me nothing but a smack in the head from Cuddy." He offered another chaste kiss, holding the wandering hands away from his body. "Hands off for these next three hours and then you can do whatever you like to me?" he suggested. "That includes any planned covert arse-pinching when you're close enough at the function. I can only feign legs cramps or coughs so often, you know."

A sigh. "Alright, alright. Go do your World's Greatest Department Head thing. But don't think I won't accost you the minute I can get you away from this place. You said _whatever I like_ and I now have three hours to plan."

Wilson was certainly tempted to call Cuddy and plead sickness to get him out of the fundraiser. He hesitated under the pinning gaze of his lover, but then shook his head, holding up his hands. "No, no. Stop that! I'm going. Give it five minutes before you follow." He strode over to the door to the stairs and disappeared inside before he lost his resolve.

* * *

Chase rubbed his finger over the name at the top of the bachelor list and snorted. "There must be a mistake. Wilson's not-," he cut off, snapping his mouth shut.

"Wilson's not what?" Cameron asked. "Last time I looked, he was very much single and available. I know I'll be whipping out the cheque book when he's thrown to the lions." She turned away to survey the crowd as she sipped her red wine, completely missing the death glare that was shot at the back of her head by her team mate.

Cuddy, who had been standing beside them nursing her Cosmopolitan to her chest, allowed herself a slightly amused smile at the exchange. "Superb metaphor for PPTH's single community, Dr Cameron. I'm noticing a distinct lack of Dr Chase's name. Something you want to share? I don't see any diamonds occupying your fingers."

"We broke up!" Chase jumped in immediately before Cameron had a chance to respond. "Ages ago. It didn't work. It was a mistake. A bad idea. And stuff."

Cameron pursed her lips. "No need to labour the damn point, Chase."

"You agreed," Chase reminded her. "You told me I had a small dick. So I took my small dick and went elsewhere." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You know I couldn't possibly have meant that, considering the reality," Cameron returned with a scowl.

Chase sniffed. "Well, now you're free to find someone more in your size range who doesn't steal the covers or leave the toilet seat up. I hear Foreman's hung. You luck out if he likes screamers."

Cuddy nearly choked on her drink, but retained her composure. The previous hearts of flowers between this pair were obviously very much a thing of the past. "Maybe tonight you can find out, Dr Cameron," she suggested, thumbing Foreman's name on the bachelor list. "Making my intrigue at your absence in the auction even more pointed, Dr Chase."

"I'm seeing someone," Chase replied with a shrug, ignoring the list and fighting back a scowl. "At least, I thought I was."

"Who?" Cameron demanded. "You didn't tell me that!"

Chase rolled his eyes. "When you have me on a leash, then you might be entitled to know my every move, Cameron. Until then, stick with trying to keep House on a leash, thank you very much." He nodded politely at Cuddy and then stormed off in the direction of the bar.

"And they wonder why women become lesbians," Cameron muttered and moved off into the crowd.

* * *

Wilson was standing staring at the board with the list of bachelors charmingly printed out on two foot high mottled card in gold print. He blinked, blushed, then looked around furtively at the sudden feeling every single person in the room was watching him just because his name was at the top of the list.

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Wilson looked around for a glimpse of the familiar blond head in the crowd. This was surely going to go down like a dose of salts. He looked back at the board and groaned inwardly. What the fuck?!

A few moments later, House limped up behind him, looking oddly fitting in a tuxedo and black tie, considering his usual attire of jeans and some scruffy shirt or another. His cheeks were on the flushed side and a wide smirk adorned his lips. The final clunk of this cane on the shiny floor was almost a punctuation of the whole smug appearance. Wilson scowled. "What's the matter, Jimmy?" House asked, leaning on the name with a mocking tone. "Transsexual cardiology nurse with the lazy eyeball didn't step up to the plate? Tsk, tsk. No matter, you can always fan your cash in the direction of Evil Nurse Brenda in the Bachelorette Auction. I saw her staring at your arse in the cafeteria line yesterday. Either that, or she hated your corduroy trousers as much as I did."

"Did you do this?!" Wilson hissed, stabbing his finger against his name and using his other hand to point accusingly at House. Then he held his hand up in surrender. "Don't answer that. The look on your face says it all. All you're missing is a bald head and an evil looking feline to stroke."

House moved over to study the list. "Don't worry about my feline quota. There will be plenty of pussy on the market come seven thirty." He tapped his cane on the side of the board frame. "Look at that. Chase dodged the bullet. Who do you think he shagged to manage that? The janitor's closet was suspiciously empty this afternoon. He must be moving up in the world. Must've been Exam Room Two, instead."

"I told them I wasn't available for this!" Wilson protested.

"And I untold them," House returned. "Now I need a drink. You better refrain. You don't want Mr Happy turning into Mr Floppy for the lucky lady… or man." He started to head for the bar.

"It's a Bachelor Auction, not a bloody booty call! I'm not sleeping with anyone who… who… pays for me!" Wilson stalked after him and lodged himself between House and the bar, preventing him from placing an order. "How can you be so sure I'm single? You don't know my personal life! You only think you do! And here's a question, why isn't _your_ name on the list?"

"I'm special," House said smugly, leaning around Wilson to order a Scotch on the rocks. "And no one in this room can afford me. The cane costs extra. So does my walking stick." He glanced down. "Did you actually buy that tie, or did you steal it from the burger flipper at the local McDonalds?"

Wilson swiped a hand through his hair in exasperation. "You have to get my name removed! Whoever you paid off to get it put there, pay them double to get me off!" he demanded, peering around anxiously and finding one of his Oncology nurses up the bar giving him a little wave and making a kissy face at him. He spun around in embarrassment. "Oh my _god_. This is your fault, House!"

House sipped his Scotch and swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing. "I can't remember who I paid off. I'm a drug addict, you know. My brain can never really be relied on."

"Your brain is going to outlive us all," Wilson sniped, trying to hide behind House and out of sight of most of the crowd. "It will be sitting in a little jar on the window sill snarking at everyone come the year 2580. Or, correction, it will be sitting on _my grave_ haunting me til the end of time."

House smirked. "Bugger 2580. I'll be happy to just survive tonight to see you up on that stage having half the panties in this room being flung in your direction."

Wilson growled in frustration and looked momentarily like he was about to grab House and either shake him or strangle him, but settled on a sharp glare before bee-lining for the auction organiser to try and get his name removed from the list before he either died of mortification, or worse… Chase chose to withhold sex as punishment.

* * *

"Did you put Wilson's name on the bachelor list?"

House turned around and leant back against the bar. "If I tell you, can I enter your boobs in the wet t-shirt competition at the end of the night?"

"There is no wet t-shirt competition," Cuddy stated with a brief roll of her eyes.

"I got Wilson's name on The List, I can get a wet t-shirt competition. Unless, of course, you want us to have our very own little private competition back at my apartment tonight?" House asked, raising his eyebrows with interest.

Cuddy snorted. "You can't afford me, House." She accepted a top-up of her drink from the bar tender. "And you couldn't keep up with me, either."

"Is that a challenge?"

Cuddy merely put her lips to her glass, her eyes gleaming at him deviously over the rim. She took a sip and watched Wilson across the hall gesticulating wildly at the fundraiser host and pointing frantically in House's direction. "You're an evil man, House."

"That's not evil. Evil would be me going over there and ripping his pants down in front of everyone to _really_ show off what's on the market," House replied, swirling the ice in his glass. He stopped and his eyebrows shot up in interest.

Cuddy put a halting hand on his arm. "Don't even think about it, House. I will not have my Head of Oncology having a stroke in the middle of the dance floor."

"Why not? We're in a hospital. It could get you more sympathy dollars for the stroke wing."

Cuddy tilted her head, analysing his smugness. "You're up to something. You're _always_ up to something. Just don't be surprised by who actually bids on Wilson tonight. Hopefully you won't regret your actions," she said smoothly and then sauntered away, leaving House alone again… blatantly perving on her arse in the slinky black gown as she went.

* * *

Wilson stood up on the stage, his hands shoved bashfully in his pockets and his whole posture slightly less Head of Department then he was aiming for. Truth of the matter was that he was absolutely shitting himself and trying to distinctly avoid the fiery blue glare he could _feel_ emanating from Chase's direction on the floor below. The spotlights were hot and now they had reached the point of no return, he just wanted it over with as fast as humanly possibly. He drew a bracing breath, promising somewhere in the back of his mind to give House a very large slap in the head when he next saw him, as the auctioneer tapped the microphone and cleared his throat.

"And, ladies and gentlemen, we have our very last PPTH bachelor of the night up for grabs, Dr James Wilson, Head of Oncology!" Wilson wanted to cringe as the crowd cheered and wolf-whistled. He just smiled faintly and held up a polite hand as he tried to beam psychic orders into the auctioneer's brain to hurry the bloody hell up.

"Come on, ladies and gentleman! It's not every day you'll have the chance to have a Head of Department at your beck and call for a _whole night_! Shall we start the bidding at one hundred?"

Cameron threw her hand up in the air. "One fifty!"

Chase glared at her before shoving his own hand up. "Two hundred!" Wilson shielded his eyes from the lights and peered down into the crowd at Chase, who was now making a very good effort of simultaneously glaring at both Wilson and Cameron.

"Two fifty!" Cameron jumped back in, turning to Chase with a smug grin.

"Three hundred!" Chase threw back automatically.

Cameron's grin soon fell into her own glare. "Three fifty!" she growled.

"_Four hundred!_

Chase and Cameron were now standing facing each other in a visual stand off. No one else seemed to be game enough to enter the bidding and a good portion of the crowd appeared to be highly amused at the showdown. Wilson exhaled sharply. This could get messy. He didn't put it past Cameron _or_ Chase to get into a full blown catfight in the middle of the floor. Chase was obviously only bidding to stop _anyone else_ nabbing Wilson for the night, but at the rate he was going, he was going to suck his bank accounts dry in less than ten minutes.

Cuddy fanned herself lightly with the fundraiser program. She turned to steal a glance at House, who was leaning against the wall at the back of the auditorium. He still had that entirely too infuriating smug grin planted on his lips. By the time she looked back up to the stage, the bidding had reached nine hundred and fifty dollars. Cameron was holding firm and Chase was shooting Wilson an unreadable look. Now _that_ was certainly interesting. The look on Wilson's face in return clearly told Cuddy just _who_ Wilson had been seeing these last couple of months. She'd certainly known it was someone just from his general demeanour, but until now, he had been shielded with any details. Sexuality aside, of course. She wasn't really surprised Wilson had an interest in the same sex. She'd suspected so for years. Unfortunately, Robert Chase suddenly didn't seem worried about being so secretive anymore.

"A thousand dollars!" the Aussie hissed with a brief glance at the auctioneer, who was gaping in awe. None of the other bachelors of the night had even neared this amount and the bidding certainly hadn't leapt up in fifty dollar chunks.

Before Cameron had a chance to return the bid, Cuddy stuck her program in the air. "One thousand one hundred," she said crisply and felt a roomful of eyes turn on her… including those of Gregory House.

"One thousand two hundred," Cameron shot back, though her confident tone had definitely waned at the entry of the Hospital Boss in the bidding war.

Chase's head was yo-yoing back and forth between the two women, with the occasional flick of his eyes up to Wilson, who shrugged helplessly. "One three!" he shouted.

"One four," Cuddy immediately returned and met Cameron's eyes. The Immunologist seemed to realise she was no match for Cuddy and backed politely out of the bidding to sink back against the side wall of the auditorium.

Chase stared at Cuddy, realising the ball was in his court. His court that was extremely lighter on the hip pocket now. "One five."

Cuddy cleared her throat. "One six."

Wilson's eyes, like all others in the room then bounced to Chase in the ocular volley between bidders that had been happening since the start of the auction. "One seven," Chase said through gritted teeth.

"Two thousand," Cuddy said clearly, a mysterious smile on her lips as she turned to throw House a light look. The Diagnostician suddenly seemed to look less smug and more calculating as he tried to work out why Cuddy had even entered the running at all. Chase and Cameron hadn't been a surprise and had been highly entertaining, but _this_… This was just irritating and uncalled for.

"Come on, lad!" the auctioneer encouraged Chase with a waving of his hands. "He has to be worth more than that!"

Chase glanced up at Wilson, the infuriated glare he'd been schooling had now been replaced by nothing more than a frown across his features. He shook his head and turned, stalking through the crowd towards the auditorium exit.

Wilson's stomach flipped over as he watched Chase leave. He tried to see House in the crowd, but the lights were too bright for him to see that far back in the room. He sighed and rubbed his lips. At least he knew Cuddy's taste in restaurants.

"Anyone for two thousand and one?" the auctioneer asked. The crowd remained silent. "Alrighty then! Your loss! Can I hear two thousand to the lovely Dean going once? Go-ing _twice_…?" He raised his hand, but before he could slam the gavel down on the bench top, a rough voice called from the back of the room.

"Five thousand dollars."

Wilson's eyes snapped open. He knew the voice better than he knew his mother's. It was the voice that haunted him in his sleep. House couldn't even buy his own _lunch_! What the hell was he playing at bidding five grand on Wilson at a bachelor auction?! He tried to strain further to see House, but it was pointless. He could almost _feel_ the smugness emanating from the back of the room. Not only was Chase going to have to forgo his night of debauchery with the Oncologist for Wilson to fulfil the obligations of the auction… He was going to have to forgo it to House. The results of _that_ little mess would be about as fun as a poke in the eyeball with a fork.

The auctioneer turned to Cuddy, who was locked in a heated gaze with House. "Dr Cuddy?" he asked. "Care to go higher?"

Cuddy huffed, downing the last of her cocktail. "I'm out," she stated snippily.

The auctioneer banged the hammer down onto the wooden top with a loud snap. "SOLD, for five thousand to the very nice man with the cane at the back of the room!"

* * *

Wilson thundered down the stairs at the side of the stage and wove his way through the thick crowd, apologising to the people he was trying to nudge out of his way.

"Sorry… 'scuse me… pardon me… I'm sorry…" he said distractedly, finally bursting through the back of the crowd. Not being impeded by a cane like House was, he soon caught up with his friend and snatched at his elbow. "Why the hell did you do that?!" he shrieked. "What? Do you need your car washed? Your toilet cleaned? Someone to lick the Diagnostics table spotless? _What?!_"

House sniggered. "Would I do that? Anyone would think I have some sort of vindictive streak or something," he scoffed.

"THEN WHY?!" Wilson snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

House glanced over Wilson's shoulder with a wide smirk. "Because I would've paid _anything_ to see the look on Chase's face when I did this." He suddenly grabbed Wilson by the tie, pulling him forward and giving him a rough and heated kiss on the lips.

After a few lingering moments, House released his grip, leaving Wilson in a sputtering, gasping mess of shock. He began to limp away towards the hospital entrance. "Meet you in the car, Jimmy," he said with a slight nod over Wilson's shoulder to where Chase was standing gaping as he rapidly turned an interesting shade of purple that really clashed horribly with his green shirt. "You're welcome to tag along for the night, wombat… At the right price." He smirked and walked away, loosening his tie as he rounded the corner.

_- fin -_


End file.
